We're All Mad Here
by 30Secs-MyChem
Summary: A My Chemical Romance/30 Seconds To Mars/Paramore/Fall Out Boy/The Venetia Fair/Amy Lee fanfic. Yeah. I don't know where I'm going with this. FRERARD. Don't like? Don't read. Rated for future chapters. Romance/Friendship/Humor. PS suck at summaries.
1. Hate It All

A/N: Ok, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm trying something new here. I know, I know, I've got three fics going at once now, but _I can't help it._ I have to jump back and forth between a few or else I get bored. So, I'm starting this one, which will be, hopefully, a little more grammatically correct and intriguing. Also, this is a first for me, because I'm not only using My Chemical Romance, but I will be including a bunch of other bands as well (i.e. Paramore, 30 Seconds To Mars, Fall Out Boy, Evanescence and MAYBE Panic! But don't get your hopes up on that one.)

Also of note is that the TIME PERIODS DO NOT MATCH UP. It's fiction people, so I don't want to hear any shit about how Gerard should be older/Hayley would only be ten/Jared isn't the same age as Ray. _I don't care. _Hence FICTION. I'm not stupid, I know I'm switching around ages, but it makes the story work and flow better. And I know that a lot of these people probably don't actually know each other. So, deal with it or GTFO.

Regardless, I love you. Kbye.

GERARDS POV

I stood, in the restroom of the underground club my friends had dragged me out to, and looked myself over in the mirror. Leaning in close, I examined everything from my dull hazel eyes, to my overly angular nose, to my lopsided lips and back up again. I hated it all. My pale skin gave me the appearance of a vampire, or just let everyone know that I lived in my mom's basement and didn't get out much. Probably the latter. My longish black hair, clean for once, fell into my eyes and framed my round face. Sighing, I leaned back, jumping ten feet in the air at the loud knocking on the door.

"Hey, jackass! You're not the only guy in the club! What are you doing? Fixing your _makeup_?" A voice boomed.

I sighed again, hand on my chest to calm my racing heart. The last thing I needed was a fistfight. I can't throw a punch for shit. Warily, I made my way over to the door, the lock clicking open suddenly a very ominous sound against the muted bass of the music on the floor above. The door was shoved open from the other side, and I jumped backwards into one of the bathroom stalls.

_Here we go… _Bracing myself for a drunken punch to the jaw, I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'm not going to hit you, dude…"

The voice of my attacker sparked some recognition, but I couldn't quite place it… Opening one eye, I let out a little gasp.

A pair of icy blues set into a thin face gazed down at me, a smile playing at the corners of the man's thin lips.

"Jared!" A laugh sounded from behind him, loud and boisterous. Suddenly, a very drunk Frank appeared, hanging onto Jared in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

"I told 'im you were in here," He slurred, hiccupped, broke down in serious giggles. Jared winced slightly at the stench of Frank's breath, an odd mix of coffee, alcohol, and cigarettes. Still laughing, Frank let go of Jared and stumbled over to the sinks. I turned to Jared.

"So, what brings you—"

He held up a hand, "Before you ask: the answer is pleasure. But I really think I should be asking you. I mean, you, what, never leave your house?"

I chuckled, and rolled my eyes.

"Nah, it's Mikey's house I never leave, actually."

We were interrupted by a burst of laughter from over by the sinks. Shit. I'd forgotten about Frank. He was standing in front of the automatic paper towel dispenser, waving his hand and making it spit out an endless cascade of white, laughing hysterically like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Oh my God," I rushed over to him and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back to where Jared stood by the door.

"Nooooo! Gee! Shhtop it!" He struggled weakly against my grip, arms outstretched towards the little white waterfall he'd created.

"Shh. Frankie, stop squirming!"

He did. And the moment after the words left my lips, I regretted them, for Frank slumped back into my arms, all 154 fucking pounds of his dead weight. He was laughing again, and this time Jared was too, probably at my feeble attempt to not fall backwards.

I choked out a, "Help!" and he was lifted off of me with the words, "Frank, I think it's time to go home now."

"Nooooooo!"

Straightening myself out, I looked to my savior: Bob had drunk!Frank slung over his shoulder, kicking and whining about us all being party poopers.

"Thanks, man."

Bob just smirked and turned around to walk out, Frank's lips set in a pout and his eyes giving me an almost irresistible puppy dog look.

"He's adorable," I stated, forgetting Jared was here.

He coughed, "Um, what?"

"No! No, no, no, no! I didn't mean – I just – We're not –"

"It's cool."

"I'm not, you know, gay."

"Dude, I know," He laughed, a rich sound, "Calm down. You goin' back up?" He nodded towards the door, "I can introduce you to my brother."

"Yeah. Sure," I shrugged and followed him up the narrow staircase, my shoulders brushing the walls, my self-confidence issues forgotten.

TOMOS POV

"A Corona please," I nodded and the man sitting at the bar fished out a couple bucks, sliding them over the counter to me. Stashing them in my pocket, I spun on my heel, grabbing a glass and filling it to the brim with the mans' beer of choice. As I slid it over the counter to him, I noticed one of the clubs regulars, Buck? No, Bob I think, carrying a shorter man over his shoulders to a booth in the corner. He sat the small dude down, pointed at him, as if telling him to stay, and walked towards me.

Chuckling, I yelled to him over the music, "Who's your friend?"

"Frank," he sat down at the bar, "Water. Thanks, Tomo."

I shook my head, "I don't think I've ever had you, of all people, ask me for water," I handed him a glass, "You the driver tonight?"

He shook his head and took a swig, "Nah. Mikey is. I've got work tomorrow and a hangover doesn't sound very pleasant," He shrugged.

"I know how you feel, man. Mikey is… the skinny kid?"

"Yeah. With the glasses and weird knees. Y'know," Bob waved his hand in around in the air, "The one that manages to always get laid by the hottest chicks."

"Ah. Yeah. Lucky motherf—"

Frank stumbling into the bar, throwing his arm around Bob in the process, cut my sentence short. He just stood there smiling, probably thinking he was actually talking, not just thinking words at us.

Bob spoke up, "Frank," he waved to Frank, then to me, "Tomo. Tomo, Frank."

"Hey, Frank!" I gave a little wave.

He just looked at me, tilting his head to one side like, say, a bird would.

"Can I, uh, get, uh, a… a cran – crayon – CORONA."

Bob patted his shoulder, "I think you've had enough to drink buddy. You've got work tomorrow and a hell of a hangover already."

Frank scoffed and placed his face on the counter, squashing his nose.

"He gonna be alright?" I asked. Bob just nodded.

Frank looked like he wasn't feeling to good, "Just don't let him throw up on the bar. If he does, you're cleaning it."

"You hear that, Iero? I am NOT cleaning up your bodily fluids. Ever."

Frank just nodded, face still pressed against the cool marble of the bar.

"Excuse me, can I get a drink, sir?" I turned towards the source of the voice. A woman was standing on Frank's other side, fiery hair framing her pixie like face, and red stained lips curved into a smile.

"Hayley! Long time no see! How goes it? You want your usual?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Tomo. And it's been good! How about yourself?"

I handed her the drink, "Well, it would have been considerably better if I got to see your Highness a little more often! Where have you been?" I leaned towards her, giving a slight kiss on her pale cheek and receiving one in return.

Frank had sat up now, looking Hayley over.

"Oh, you know, work. Gotta pay the rent somehow!" She smiled and sipped at her martini, red lipstick staining the glass, dainty fingers putting prints in the condensation that had formed. I smiled back and went to tend to the other side of the bar, waving a goodbye to Bob and Frank on my way.

GERARDS POV

I tuned out whatever my brother, Mikey, was saying and focused on Frank and Bob at the bar across the room. A pretty girl was standing next to them, sipping an unidentifiable drink. She was smaller than Frank, which was saying something, and was wearing a black shirt tucked into a black skirt, paired with neon orange converse. Her straight orange-red hair came down passed her shoulders, obviously dyed, and her pale skin almost glowed in the clubs' lights. I could see a tattoo on her ankle and –

"Gerard? Gee? Hello? Earth to Gerard?" Mikey was snapping his fingers in front of my face, trying to get my attention.

"Sorry… What were you saying?"

He just shook his head, "Gee, why don't you just go and talk to her?"

I laughed, sharp and short, "Funny."

"I'm serious!"

"I'm not one of those guys who can successfully flirt. Plus, I don't have anything to say, and probably nothing in common with her. It's much more entertaining to watch Frank fail than fail myself."

Mikey turned around at this, and we watched in silence as the mystery girl listened to whatever Frank was saying.

"He's fucking hammered and still has a better chance than I do," Like some kind of crazy voodoo, or maybe coincidence, but that's not as cool, Frank tried to be suave by leaning on the bar. What he didn't know, and what Bob didn't tell him either, was that the bar was a few feet back, so instead of being smooth, he managed to land on his ass with a perfect view up the girl's skirt.

I heard Mikey mumble, "Look away, Frank, look away!"

The girl frowned, then laughed as Frank tried to get to his feet again, only to land back on his ass.

"SEE!" I yelled to Mikey, making him jump a little, "HE'S STILL GONNA GET LAID. EVEN AFTER MAKING AN IDIOT OUT OF HIMSELF."

"Yeah. It's pretty shit."

"WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING? YOU GET LAID LIKE THREE TIMES A DAY AND DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT CALLING ANYONE!"

He just shrugged and sipped his beer, "Why are you yelling?"

I glared at the side of his face, "I'm going to go home now. I'm taking Frank. And I'm going home."

He nodded, "Leave the porch light on for me."

I stood; making my way over to the bar.

When I reached the two, Bob had disappeared, the girl was laughing albeit leaning slightly away from Frank, probably due to his stench. I coughed. They both turned their heads, looking at me curiously. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. _Fuck I knew this was gonna happen… I fucking knew I was going to freeze up just because there's a pretty—no, fucking gorgeous girl near me. SPEAK GERARD. FUCKING SAY SOMETHING._

"Hi," I said dumbly. I could feel my cheeks heating up. _Fuck… _

"Hi," She replied in a perfect, singsong voice.

Frank jumped up and down excitedly, like a little kid in a candy store, "Oh. Oh! OH!"

The girl simply raised a perfect brow at him.

"You guys haven't met!" He clapped his hands like a retarded seal.

We waited for him to continue.

"Well?" She asked, tapping her foot impatiently, "Were you planning on doing so, or should I?"

"No… no! I will," He smiled, "Gerard… Gee… Geeeee…rawr…d…"

"I'm Gerard," I surprised myself with my sudden forwardness as I stretched my hand out to her. She smiled, placing her hand, barely half the size of my own and freezing cold from her drink, in mine.

"Name's Hayley. Or H-Bomb among friends," I returned her smile.

"Nice to meet you." I noticed she had a small gap between her front teeth, something that many cannot pull off, but suited her nicely.

Frank poked his head between us, "Yelyah."

"Huh?" My brows furrowed, and she laughed.

"It's my name, Hayley, backwards. Your friend here seems to have taken a liking to it."

Frank slung an arm around me, grinning stupidly, "Isn't she pretty?"

"Very."

She blushed, and looked down. Soon after, a confused expression creeped up onto her soft features, and she let her green-hazel gaze fall on mine, "Wait… Gerard?"

I nodded, "Mhmm."

"Frank! You didn't tell me that Gerard and 'Vampire Boy,'" She made quotations around the nickname, "Were the same person!"

I laughed and looked at Frank, a difficult task since he had burrowed his face into my neck, "Vampire Boy? Aww, Frankie, you shouldn't have!" We all laughed this time, Frank's muffled by my jacket collar. I frowned at him.

"Well, Hayley, it was nice to meet you, but I should probably get him home… He's got work tomorrow and it's already gonna be a bitch getting him to leave his bed in the morning, let alone leave his house," I mentally slapped myself for that one. _C'mon, was the cussing really necessary, Gerard?_

She just nodded, slight smile on her lips, "You too. And, uh… Good luck with him?"

I smiled back at her, "Thanks," and then she turned back to the bar, ignoring a few catcalls from some guys and engaging the bartender in conversation.

I practically dragged Frank through the club and out into the parking lot, letting him curl up in the backseat of my crappy blue Honda. _He is not going to want to even be alive tomorrow._

Getting in, I started the car and pulled out onto the highway, always a little over the speed limit, as usual. The whole drive home, I could hardly stop thinking about Hayley and the fact that I'd actually _talked _to her and she hadn't run off screaming. I did a mental victory dance, until I realized I would probably never see her again. Fucking Los Angeles and it's big fucking population. Hell, she was probably visiting from Canada or, like, fucking Madagascar or something.

I sighed and pulled into Mikey's driveway.

"Gee?"

"Yes Frank?"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his hair sticking up in every possible direction, "Why am I at Mikey's?"

"You're staying with me. C'mon, let's get inside and get you into some clean clothes, hmm?" I unbuckled and got out, opening the backseat door for Frank. He put one leg out, then the other, before stopping completely.

"You coming?" I prompted him.

"Yeah… Gee-rawr-d?" I smiled at the way drunk!Frank said my name, stretching it out and making me sound like some kind of weird frankenstein/zombie/monster/dinosaur mix. It was adorable, and I would honestly do anything for Frank as long as he said my name like that. That's how I knew I wasn't going to like whatever he was gonna ask.

"Will you… Will you carry me inside? I – my head feels like it's going to implode."

I chuckled softly, "Frank, I'm not Bob. I'll drop you."

He gave me a puppy dog look, "Pwease?"

"Oh for the love of – Yeah. C'mere," I scooped the shorter boy into my arms, kicking the door shut behind me, and carried him inside, bridal style. I made my way through the house, Frank flicking on the light switches as we went, to the bathroom. _It is definitely not normal to know another dude this well, _I thought as I helped a groggy Frank out of his jeans, holding him upright while he took a piss. Working together, we managed to brush his teeth, him giggling and spitting toothpaste all over the mirror because 'it tasted like soap and soap should be used for bubbles, not mouthwash' being a minor setback. All in all, I managed to get Frank in bed relatively unscathed (I say relatively because I did stub my toe on the bed frame while Frank giggled from the bed, wrapped in my comforter, looking uncannily similar to a fluffy, Batman-print burrito).

Now lying in bed, us both in sweatpants, he snuggled up close to me. His nose was squished against my neck, and his warm, steady breath flowed across my bare chest. I suppressed shivers (whether they were of pleasure or discomfort was not something I was going to discuss with myself, or anyone else). I moved my arm around him, and played with his hair like I knew he loved.

"Gee-rawr-d?"

I smiled, butterflies dancing in my chest, "Yes?

"Mikey's gon' be mad," One of his tattooed hands played absentmindedly with the draw string on my sweatpants, the first half of his HALLOWEEN tattoo across his knuckles barely visible in the dark room.

I focused on what he was saying and dead puppies rather than the hand that was so close to my nether regions, which were getting a little too excited for my taste.

"Why's he going to be mad?"

"You didn't leave th' porch light on," he moved his HALLO hand to rest of my chest, and snuggled closer.

I sighed, "Fuck."

Frank giggled and I shushed him. In a matter of minutes, his breathing became deep and slow, letting me know he had fallen asleep. I continued playing with his hair, insomnia deciding it was going to keep me company tonight, and focused on his steady breaths and the beat of his heart against my ribcage. I would be doing this long into the early hours of the morning.


	2. Vampire Canary

**A/N** Shit son – it's been a while since I've updated. Whelp. Sorry for that guys! Just so ya know, when I don't update for a while, it usually means I have writers block. So when that happens, and you really want me to update, shoot me a PM with a suggestion for what YOU want to happen next. That's usually enough to get me up and running with the story again. That'd be super. A'ight motherfuckers. I'm out. Enjoy~

JARED's POV

"Yellow?" I looked at Gerard skeptically, brows raised.

He nodded and pushed the various cans of paint further towards me on the counter. I shrugged, "Okay," and slid each individual can over the scanner, punching in the register keys by rote, the beeps and clicks forming a melody in my head.

Gerard's eyes followed my every movement, up until I bagged the cans and slid them back across the counter to him, at which point he averted his gaze from mine and shuffled about.

"Dude, what?" I crossed my arms. Something was up. Gerard never buys yellow paint. He asks me what our blackest black is and what shade of red I prefer. He doesn't just come in and _buy paint. _Gerard likes to talk about his artwork with crazy hand gestures that don't apply to normal human conversations and talks out of the side of his stupid crooked mouth with that nasally voice of his. And his _hair._

_His hair is clean. _

"Um…" He finally met my eyes with his hazels, "Do you think I need cologne? Like, Mikey says I do if I want to get anywhere with anyone – But Pete works there, and you know _Pete. _He doesn't shut up. Escape is impossible and I'll end up with someone's dog and empty pockets because I suck at poker. He'll probably make me wear an aloha shirt too_…. You know Pete."_

I stared at him for a long minute before speaking, "Really?"

He nodded, eyes wide.

"Dude. I don't know. Do you want to wear cologne? And no, I don't know this Pete."

He kept staring at me, expecting some kind of helpful advice I guess.

I sighed, "Yeah. Go get cologne. Don't play poker with Pete. You'll be great. What the yellow paint for?"

His face lit up, "Oh! I'm painting a mural. In my living room. It's gonna be awesome. I'll take pictures and text you from Mikey's phone.

"Okay," I reached across the counter and punched his shoulder, "See you around, man."

He nodded, "Bye, Jared!" and headed for the door.

"Oh, Gerard?"

He turned around, hand on the door.

"Yeah?"

"Good luck with the cologne."

He grimaced and hopped out the door. Chuckling to myself, I turned around to see my manager standing there glaring at me.

"You done fucking around, Leto?"

I nervously cleared my throat.

"Good. I need you to restock the yellows. Some douche cleared us out," He turned to walk away before calling back over his shoulder, "And make sure to mop the floor on isle 5. There are pencil marks everywhere."

"Sure thing," I couldn't help but think about that 'douche' and why the fuck he would need all that yellow paint. What is he painting anyway, a fucking vampire canary?

HAYLEY's POV

I waved my arms around spastically, jumping as I did so, and yet another taxi passed me by, splashing water at my feet.

"Oh! Come on!" I yelled to no one in particular. I could not be late for work again! Amy would pop a cap in my ass, probably firing me too, first chance she got. I needed to buy a car. Or a bike. Some form of transportation. Taxi hunting is getting ridiculously difficult these days. Another empty Yellow Cab turned the corner, heading down my street, and I suddenly had a moment of brilliance. _Do taxi drivers pull over for attractive girls?_ I sure hoped so. I quickly pulled off my winter coat and smoothed out the dress I was required to wear for work, yanking out my hair tie and shaking my head about. I stepped precariously close to the curb and attempted to look sexy. I probably just looked like a prostitute. As the taxi neared, I waved one arm around and used my free hand to whistle. The car slowed and pulled up next to me, carful not to splash any water.

"Finally," I muttered and got in, sliding my coat back on. The driver pulled the car back into traffic, "Where to?" His voice was slightly higher than the standard male tone and sounded oddly familiar…

"Um, Sue's Diner. By the museum. Do you know where that is?"

He responded with, "Asshole!" as some jerk in a shiny sports car cut him off.

I coughed, "I'll take that as a yes?"

Laughing, high and somewhat obnoxiously, "Yeah, sorry. You in a hurry?"

"Just slightly."

"Alright, let me just—" He swerved into the lane over, accelerating fast and turning sharp onto an almost empty side street, receiving many honks and shouts from other drivers and pedestrians, "Sorry. Shortcut."

Okay. I definitely know this guy – But what the hell from? Maybe I've gotten into his taxi before? No, I would have remembered a taxi driver as hot – and young – as this guy was. Maybe if he took his sunglasses off… Could I bribe him to do that for me? Probably not. His hair looked… Black maybe? He had his hood up, so I couldn't really tell. The only thing about him that was striking a familiar note was his smile; white and a little crooked, but still pretty straight, and absolutely adorable and contagious. His silver lip ring glinted in the mid-morning sun, as did his nose ring. A few minutes passed while I studied him the review mirror. His identity didn't hit me until I focused my attention on his hands clutching at the steering wheel, donned in gloves; black and fingerless with a skeletal print. His jacket sleeve rose up his arm while he made a turn and I instantly recognized the tattoos.

"Frank?"

His lips tightened into a thin line and he nodded at me in the mirror, "Hayley."

I giggled, "How long have you known it was me?"

"Let's just say you didn't have to pretend to be a prostitute on a cold-as-fuck Monday morning to get me to pick you up. But," he cursed at some chick that couldn't handle her stick shift right, "I was really hoping _you_ wouldn't recognize _me_."

With that he pulled his hood down, revealing a black, floppy mohawk with buzz cut, bleached-blonde, sides. Tattoos poked out from under the collar of his shirt.

Well then, "And why didn't you want me to see you?" Maybe he didn't like me after all. I suddenly felt hyperaware of my appearance and the fact that I hadn't showered since yesterday morning. But he couldn't possibly know that. Maybe my breath smelled bad? I checked in what I thought was a discreet way. Nope. Smells like toothpaste. I pulled my hair back into its usual bun in fear that it might be messy.

"You look fine. I'm sure your date will me more than happy."

I froze. "What?" Looking up at Frank's reflection in the review mirror, I discovered he'd ditched the sunglasses. For a moment I could only focus on the green-hazel of his eyes. Which were, um HELLO, looking right back at me. "No, no, no, no, no! I'm not—I don't—I'm single! I'm going to work! At Sue's Diner! I, y'know, work there…" And here I am, desperately trying to prove to Frank that I'm single. A blush creeped up my neck.

He turned around in his seat at a red light, "Oh. So that was for me?" A perfect brow rose up over eyes lined in red pencil.

I stuttered and blushed.

He turned back around as the light switched to green and continued driving, "I didn't want you to recognize me because I was drunk as fuck at the bar last night and made a show of hitting on you like there was no tomorrow. So, really, I'm just embarrassed… And flattered that you still think I'm worthy of your presence, in all its beauty."

Well, isn't he just the charmer. Another line like that and I might just jump the guy in the car.

We chatted aimlessly for a few more minutes until we reached the Diner. I have never seen somebody so dedicated to and excited about music. We ended up having a lot in common, like music taste; the Misfits and Black Flag being among our favorites. We had a slight dispute over Green Day but settled on the fact that Billie Joe is one sexy motherfucker.

When we pulled up outside the Diner, I almost didn't want to leave. I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't seen a very angry looking Amy stalking her way to the car, my roller blades in hand.

"Um…" I fished for my wallet. Frank just held up a hand.

"No need."

"But-"

"Hayley I'm kissing your ass here and trying to make up for my drunk antics. Please? Plus, she," he nodded towards Amy, "looks fucking _pissed."_

I looked to Amy, who was getting dangerously close to Franks window, and back to Frank, "Point. And, uh, thanks. I'll see you around sometime?"

He smiled and opened his mouth to speak when Amy knocked on his window. He turned around and made eye contact for a split second before just opening the door and stepping out. Amy looked mildly shocked and confused, but straightened herself out, looking down at Frank from her 5 inch advantage.

I followed him quickly and took the skates from her, obediently putting them on.

Frank smiled, and her mouth quirked. Of course—his smile was fucking intoxicating. "Hey, I'm Frank. Sorry she was late, traffic was terrible. Too many cops on the road nowadays, had to go the speed limit, y'know?"

Whoa, total fucking lie, because he sped the whole time, but whatever.

Amy smiled and took his hand, "Amy. Hayley's boss. Thanks for getting her here. She's usually even later than this. Maybe you should drive her from now on. This is improvement."

She winked at me.

"Plus I don't think she'd mind. You're cute—Totally her type."

Frank smiled and glanced sideways at me, "Huh. I just might have to then.

I cut in then, "Thank you for the ride, Frank. I'm going to go, and Amy is going to come with me now."

Amy laughed, as did Frank.

"What?" I asked.

"'Thanks for the _ride_'?" Amy snorted, "I am so not coming with you. I have a boyfriend.

I don't think I have ever blushed that much, "No! I meant—UGH. Nevermind. Thanks, Frank. Amy—Let's go!"

Frank smirked and waved, "See ya 'round!"


End file.
